


i look at her (and drown)

by FreshBrains



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 1990s, College, Community: comment_fic, Dorms, F/F, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pre-Canon, Pre-Femslash, Recreational Drug Use, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara looks like the type of girl who drinks fancy champagne and does cocaine, and Renee can’t compete with that shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i look at her (and drown)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohmcgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/gifts).



> For oh_mcgee's LJ comment_fic prompt: _Gotham, Renee Montoya/Barbara Kean, their first "date"_.
> 
> I headcanon their relationship as super destructive and co-dependent, and that definitely comes out in this fic a bit, so fair warning. I also would say this takes place around 1997-1999, if these characters are in their early/mid-30's.

“Shit,” Renee says as she opens her door and almost stumbles over the pink-wrapped lump in the already-narrow dorm hallway.  The lump groans and stirs, and Renee frowns.  “Whoa, are you okay?”

A messy head of blond hair pops out from the pink blanket—tangled hair and makeup smeared cheeks.  The girl rubs her eyes with her fists, looking like an adorable disgruntled kitten.  “Yeah, sorry.  My roommate exiled me.”

Renee glances down the hallway and sees a door three down with a red sock wrapped around the door knob.  “Gotcha.  You’re a little far from home, though.”  She steps carefully around the girl towards the bathroom, her toothbrush and toothpaste clutched in her hand. 

“They’re loud,” the girl says bluntly, easing herself off the floor. 

Renee snorts and slips into the bathroom.  As she brushes her teeth over the sink, she tries to remember the girl’s name—she’s definitely a legacy baby, that’s for sure.  Most of the girls on the floor are, except for the big scholarship winners like herself.  All the party girls sort of blend together after a while with their tottering heels and high-pitched laughs and frosty hair.

When Renee leaves the bathroom, the girl is sitting up against the brick wall, looking worse for wear.  She’s still in a little black dress and silver heels, her hair falling out of its up-do, and she’s digging around in her tiny purse to retrieve a tube of tinted lip gloss.  She looks like a lost little girl, like someone threw her away, and Renee feels a pang in her chest.

“Do you,” Renee starts, and wonders why the hell she bothers, “want to hang out or something?  I’d feel shitty leaving you out here.”

The girl raises an eyebrow.  “Are you sure?  They’ll probably be done soon.”  As if on cue, a drawn-out moan comes from the girl’s room, and she buries her face in her blanket and laughs.  “Maybe I can come in for a little bit.”

Renee smiles and opens her door.  “If you’re into it, I was just lighting up.” She was planning on getting high and taking a stab at her criminal law textbooks that she hadn’t touched in days, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate knowing the girl was sitting in the hallway.

“Sure,” the girl says, and Renee suddenly remembers her name.  Barbara.  “I was supposed to go out tonight, but my girls flaked on me.  As usual.”  She sits on Renee’s roommate’s empty bed, blanket still curled around her shoulders, and kicks her heels into the floor with a _clunk_.  She wrinkles her nose as she looks around the room.  “It looks like you just moved in here.”

Renee stuffs a blanket beneath her dorm door and cracks the window, despite the winter chill.  She grabs her lighter and a half-smoked joint from her bedside table drawer.  “I don’t spend much time here.”  She knows her room is pretty sparse, especially compared to her roommate’s side, which is covered in posters, photos, and stuffed animals.  All she needs are her books and computer on her desk.  She lights the joint and offers it to Barbara first, who takes it with clumsy fingers.

“I don’t see you around much,” Barbara says before taking a deep inhale, her eyes watering a bit.  Renee can tell she’s never smoked before and feels bad for offering, but Barbara takes it like a champ before hastily handing it back to Renee. 

“I keep to myself,” Renee says, folding her legs beneath her on her bed.  “I’m not really into the party scene.”  She doesn’t tell Barbara how she partied too hard in high school and got bad grades, or how she still gets wrecked when she goes home on the weekends, or how she probably still drinks too much when she’s alone.  She definitely doesn’t offer her a swig from the handle of Jack she’s got in her desk, even though she wants to, because Barbara looks like the sort of girl who likes to drink hard.  Barbara also looks like the type of girl who drinks fancy champagne and does cocaine, and Renee can’t compete with that shit.

Barbara hums in assent, glancing around the room like she doesn’t know what else to do.  “I think I’m too much into the party scene,” she murmurs, running her fingers through her soft blonde hair.  Her pink gloss is smudged a little on her upper lip and through the pot haze Renee wants to rub it away with her own lips.  She shakes the idea away.  “My parents are hoping I’ll grow out of it.”  She says it sardonically, like she’s daring Renee to agree, like she’s afraid of being judged.

Renee slides over on her bed and gestures to the spot next to her.  “I’ll put in a movie,” she says, nodding towards the TV and the pile of videos she brought from home—all cop movies, her biggest weakness.  “And for the record, I think you should say fuck ‘em all.  Live for you, not for anyone else.” She flushes, not sure where the sentiment came from, but she knows she means it.

Barbara looks up, a little surprised, and stands.  “That’s nice to hear, Renee.”  Renee had no idea Barbara knew her name.  Barbara smiles and she looks so _pretty_ , so young, and Renee knows she’s making a huge fucking mistake, as per usual.  But when she snuggles up into the crook of Renee’s arm like she belongs there, like they didn’t just meet minutes before, Renee can’t seem to care.  “You’re one of the good ones,” Barbara says, and reaches for the TV remote.  Her bare feet curl against Renee’s plaid bedspread and make Renee smile for some reason.

 _I’ll look out for you,_ she wants to say, but doesn’t want to tell any lies.  So she just tightens her arm around Barbara and passes her the joint again.  _I can’t even fucking look after myself, but I want to look after you._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hole's "Hit So Hard"


End file.
